As Nightwing and Robin had feared, this outbreak of violence had found its way to Barbara's rehab. They had to fight their way up to the doors, leaving bruised, broken, and unconscious bodies in their wake. Each step had filled them with anxiety and desperation, their fears getting the best of them as they assumed the worst.
It turned out that while the guys with laser guns had reached the rehab center, they hadn't gone inside. "I guess this wasn't a top priority for them," Robin had mused as they stood in the lobby, breathing heavily from the exertion they had put themselves through.
Nightwing ignored the comment, choosing to take off down the hallway to Barbara's room, Robin hot on his heels. The sound of their pounding footsteps echoed throughout the corridor, making them sound louder than they probably were. Reaching the end of the hall, they made a left and kept running, coming up to another turn, but stopped short.
The door to Barbara's room just happened to be right before the turn and it was there the two young men slowed down. Grabbing the doorknob, Nightwing nearly tore the door off its hinges as he opened it. Sitting in a wheelchair by the window was Barbara, who had twisted her head around to look at her visitors. The moment she saw them, she perked up, though it wasn't out of happiness.
"What the hell is going on out there?" she demanded, her hands grabbing onto the wheels of her chair and maneuvered it to face the masked vigilantes. "It sounds like a war zone out there and—" she paused as she got a good look at the men, "—is...is that what the costumes look like?" she finished breathlessly.
"We'll show you yours later," Nightwing spoke, breaking the redhead out of her daze. "Right now there are guys out there with some serious firepower and sooner or later they're going to get into a gunfight with the local PD. We need to get you some place safe where you won't get caught in the crossfire."
Barbara slowly nodded in understanding. "Do you have a clue where we could go?" she asked.
"Not really," Robin answered. "We just happened to be in the right place to see these guys marching down the street. It could just be here, it could be all over the city. There's just no telling."
Nightwing really wanted to sag his shoulders in frustration, but he refused to do so in front of his friends. Now wasn't the time to let a bad situation get to him, them. They had already been through worse together and they were going to get out of this one too. They just had to.
Fortunately, it looked as if Barbara wasn't completely overwhelmed by everything. "What about your house, Robin?"
"Mine?" the younger man responded with surprise. "It's in the suburbs. Nothing happens out...there…" he trailed off.
Nightwing immediately pounced at what Barbara was getting at. "Then that's the perfect place to go. Here's the plan: we fight our way towards your neighborhood. Once there, you change out of your suit, Robin, and take Barbara in."
"Huh? But why do I have to change?"
"Are your parents going to let you keep an older girl in your home without you?" the older man asked pointedly. "They're probably out of their minds with worry right now, so there's no way they'd let you just drop Barb off and let you out into the streets."
"But that leaves you out here all alone," Robin retorted angrily. "No backup whatsoever. No, I'm not going to let you do that."
A sigh from Barbara cause the two men to pause, turning their heads to look at her. "I don't think there's much of a choice, Tim. Unless Dick decides to crash with you—which I highly doubt he will," she said, sending a glare to Nightwing, "—he's gonna have to be on his own." Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Unless you try to hook up with the Birds of Prey. They have to be out in this mess too."
"Then that's what I'll do," Nightwing confirmed. "Once we get you two safe, I'll go meet up with them. They'll get my back and I'll get theirs."
"I guess that could work," Robin agreed reluctantly, clearly having reservations. "I just want to go on record that I really don't like this."
"Me too," Barbara added.
"Then it's settled," Nightwing announced, trying to end the conversation. The longer they were here, the longer they were in danger. It was time to move out. "Robin, you lead the way, I'll cover our backs. Let's go."
Without waiting, Robin took off into the hall, Barbara wheeling herself after him, which left the older man pulling up the rear. Closing Barbara's door behind him, the three made their way to the entrance of the center, pausing at the door. Robin had peeked his head out to get an idea of what was going on in the streets and he didn't look the least bit pleased.
"You're not going to like this, but it looks like those guys have an armored squadron," he spat out angrily. Frowning, Nightwing moved next to the younger man and poked his head out.
His friend wasn't kidding. Due to the rehab center being at the corner of an intersection, that put them right next to several armored trucks being parked smack dab in the middle of said intersection. From where he stood, he could see the back of one of the trucks was open, more weapons being handed out, no doubt the same thing happening with the other truck. Damn it, there was no way they could just sneak their way out of here, not without being seen, and subsequently shot at.
"Tell me there's a back way out of here," Nightwing asked Barbara, not bothering to look at her.
"Beats me," the redhead replied, much to his chagrin. That wasn't the answer he was hoping for. "I'm not exactly the most mobile person around."
"Then I highly suggest that we go find one if it's there. It's a hell of a lot better than wading out in—"
He wasn't able to finish what he was saying, mostly due to one of the armored trucks suddenly exploding. The roar of the blast made the vigilante jerk backwards, the glass in the door cracking from the force. The men in the streets were all cringing or diving to the ground, just before a second explosion sent the other truck flipping up into the air, crashing further down the street with a loud BANG!
That was when something rammed into the corner of the first, now burning, truck, causing it to spin off to a side, plowing into a street lamp, which stopped the truck while causing the pole to fall down on top of it. That was when a sleek, black car appeared, turning to a side as it skidded down the road perpendicular to it.
Anyone that was anybody knew that car just from sight. The Batmobile, that just had to be it.
However, Nightwing couldn't help but frown. Wasn't Batman off getting in dogfights with the alien ships in the sky? Since when he had gotten back to the city, not to mention drive out in his bad ass car?
Because of the way it was skidding, anyone that was unable to get out of the Batmobile's path found themselves being slammed into its side, their bodies rolling over the top before falling onto the ground on the other side. This had the added benefit of knocking a lot of the men out, thankfully.
It seemed the Batclan wasn't going to have to duck out the back after all.
Unfortunately, not everyone was taken down for the count. As the Batmobile finally came to a stop right in front of the rehab center, two men with the laser guns stood on the sidewalk between the car and the building. Immediately, they opened fire, yellow laser beams racing through the air and piercing right through the windshield. Over and over they fired, making Swiss cheese out of the roof and windshield glass, leaving holes with singed edges in their wake.
Nightwing couldn't help but stare in horror, just before his body kicked into gear and began to move through the doorway, pushing the door open. The only thing that stopped him was Robin and Barbara grabbing onto his arms. "Dick, don't," Robin hissed.
"Did you see what they did?" Nightwing raged back. "They just ripped apart the Batmobile! No way the Bat survived!"
"Exactly. You go out there and you set yourself up to getting shot too. I know we just got out of that mess, but we had a plan and it worked. You don't have one, so before you get your head blown off, let's come up with one first."
That wasn't that bad of an idea actually. Taking a deep breath, Nightwing forced himself to calm down even as he kept the door open.
That was when the roof of the Batmobile began to slide forward, making the vigilante realize it was a canopy. Holding his breath, he waited as the canopy came to a stop, the two gunmen in front of it, keeping their weapons trained on the car. Nightwing wasn't sure what to expect at this point, be it the Bat leaping out of the car, or the gunmen working up the courage to look inside and see a corpse.
What he wasn't expected was a thin girl to appear.
Blinking his eyes, Nightwing had to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Focusing his eyes, he found he wasn't mistake, that a young girl was climbing out of the Batmobile and stood next to it. She was dressed in black from her feet up to her neck. A domino mask covered her eyes, the only thing that could be considered a disguise.
The two men found this hilarious. "You've got to be kidding me!" one exclaimed as the two busted out laughing. "What is this? Send-your-wannabe-Bat-kid-to-die Day?"
In response, the girl began to stroll towards the men, not the least bit offended by their words. Her dark, shoulder length hair barely budged as she walked. The ease with which she moved sent flags up in Nightwing's head. Something about this wasn't right…
"Well, I'm an equal opportunity kind of guy," the same man said as he raised his laser gun up to the girl. "I shoot whatever is in front of me, be it men, women, Bats, or dumb little gi—"
That's when Nightwing lost sight of her. He had only blinked and the next thing he knew, the girl was in midair between the men. Her right leg was fully extended, her foot collided with the side of one of the men's faces while her left fist slammed into the loudmouth man's head. Both men dropped to the ground, lying in separate heaps as the girl dropped down to land on her feet.
Rapidly blinking, all Nightwing could say was, "Wow."
Apparently, the girl heard him and her head jerked up to look right at him. Immediately, Nightwing held his hands up to indicate he wasn't a threat. "Hey, whoa, I mean you no harm."
Standing at her full height, all of five feet—five and a half...maybe?—she began walking towards the vigilante much like she had approached the two gunmen. It was like a cat approaching its prey, fully alert, yet playful. Faintly, Nightwing wondered if he could stop her if she decided to attack.
So he kept talking at her in hopes something worked. "No harm, not enemies. Uhh, we help? No?" Damn, this was tough and apparently Robin and Barbara weren't going to help him with this. They were silent as mice. "Tu hablas ingles?" he tried, using his minimal Spanish. Seeing no reaction, it obviously didn't work. "Uhh, we're friends, okay? Friends with Batman."
Suddenly, the girl stopped, her head perking up. Oh, good, he finally found something. Thank you, merciful Jesus. "Yeah, we know the Bat. We're friends with him," he pressed. Stepping to a side, incidentally opening the door wider to reveal his friends behind him, he continued, "All three of us are."
The girl didn't respond to him, merely looking from him, to Barbara, to Robin, then back to Nightwing. "We're just trying to get out of here," he said. "We could use your help."
The girl tilted her head to a side. "Help?" she said at last, as if she were tumbling over the word.
"Yeah, help. We go somewhere else."
She then gave him a sharp nod. "Help."
"Great, perfect." Slowly, cautiously, Nightwing approached her, holding a hand out to her for a handshake. "I'm Nightwing."
In response, she just looked at his offered hand then back at him. Hmm, now this was oddly familiar. Dropping his hand, he then held out his other to indicate the approaching Robin and Barbara. "The other guy is Robin. The woman is...uhh, a friend."
"A friend, huh?" Barbara spoke up teasingly. "Is that all I am to you?"
"I can't exactly give her your name and you're not in costume, ya know."
"I know, I know. Don't get your tights in a knot."
"Speaking of," Robin butted in. "I think tights is all this girl is wearing."
That got Barbara's attention. "She's what?!" Wheeling herself closer, she stared at the girl. "She's got the Batmobile, but she isn't wearing a bit of armor? What kind of guy is he?!"
"She could be out here without his permission," Robin pointed out. "I mean, we were for the longest time. Maybe it's the same with her."
"And look where that got us," Barbara scowled. "No, no way are we going to make the same mistake. We have to get this girl some proper battle clothes."
"Like what?" Nightwing exclaimed. "It's not like we can pick anything up at this time of night. There's no Vigilantes-R-Us around and even if there were, it would've been looted by now."
That was when the redhead bit her bottom lip. She was thinking and apparently she was torn about the thought. "She...she can use mine," she finally said.
Nightwing felt as if he had been punched in the gut. "What? But that's your suit. Are you sure—"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Barbara interrupted him, her shoulders slumping. "Look, it's not doing anyone any good locked up. We need to put her in something and that's the best thing we've got."
"If...if you say so."
"So change in plan," Robin spoke up. "How are we going to get to the shipping yard though?"
That's when the three collectively turned their eyes to the Batmobile. "Do you think that thing can still run?" Nightwing asked.
Flash had been taken to one of the carrier ships. It was there his unconscious body had been restrained and he had been boarded onto another ship, a transport cruiser. It was this ship that Batman and Hawkgirl stealthily boarded.
The entire time Batman had used his experience with Frenzay to his benefit, clearing his mind of thought and just acting. There were more of these Kalanorians and he wasn't going to assume there wasn't another mind-reader in the bunch. Better to expect their entire race was telepathic than not to, only to be proven wrong.
Yet, Hawkgirl didn't appear to make any such preparations. Either she reacted on instinct—which he doubted considering she had investigative skills—or she didn't care if her mind was read. Even more surprising was that none of the Kalanorians actually detected her. Perhaps she had compensated in a different manner—a mind blocking device in her mask? Either way, it was something for him to investigate at a later date.
The transport ship, thankfully, had large ventilation shafts, so he and Hawkgirl were currently sitting in one comfortably. Several minutes ago they had felt the ship moving, meaning they were heading elsewhere. Batman didn't like not knowing where they were going, but if they were going to rescue Flash, they needed to keep a low profile.
"I'm not receiving any feedback from the others," the winged woman whispered, hand next to her ear. She had been trying to contact the rest of the Justice League; apparently she hadn't succeeded.
"Either they're still fighting, or they've been captured," Batman replied back, his voice low. Neither wanted to chance having a Kalanorian hear them.
"What makes you think they've been captured?" Hawkgirl inquired.
"If they wanted the Flash dead, they could have done it at any time," the vigilante responded, careful to not let his thoughts linger on his words. He needed to speak them before he gave them due thought; that was a surefire way to be detected. "Instead they went to all the effort in apprehending him. That tells me that if given the choice, they're going to capture the League instead of kill them."
The Thanagarian nodded her agreement. "Good point. Any idea where they're taking us?"
"Not a clue."
"Didn't think so." She sighed then, closing her eyes as she leaned the back of her head against the wall of the vent. Apparently she was content with silence, something Batman wasn't opposed to. Copying her actions, he relaxed and settled in for the long haul, focusing on his meditation.
However, it seemed as if the ride wasn't going to be completely quiet. It was a while, but eventually Hawkgirl broke the silence. "There's something you and I need to talk about."
In response, he opened his eyes to look at her, slightly tilting his head up to indicate he was listening. The redhead was looking back at him, a serious look on her face. "If we're going to succeed in this, I need you to not do anything stupid. Fighting to survive is one thing, but having a death wish is something completely different."
"I don't have a death wish," the vigilante responded.
"Then what do you call that plunge of yours?"
"I was trying to get underneath the ships. If I had tried to parachute my way through the fleet, I'd be a sitting duck for their guns."
Hawkgirl slowly nodded her understanding. "Okay, I can see that a little. But that doesn't explain why you went headfirst between two exploding ships. If you have a survival instinct at all, you would've avoided that. You were lucky there wasn't any debris floating about in there, otherwise you'd be a spatter right now."
She paused as her eyes glazed over. In return, Batman just remained quiet. She was obviously thinking of something and it wasn't worth the effort to press her for it, not when she'd be telling him in due time.
And as predicted, she did. "You don't strike me as an adrenaline junkie. If so, then your crime-fighting is going to take a serious hit after this. No way does beating on random thugs compare to what you just did." A sigh. "In fact, you remind me of someone I knew from Thanagar."
Batman was intrigued by this, but he did his best to keep the emotion suppressed. He refused to let a stray thought linger. Hawkgirl continued, "We were assigned the same unit. At first he was addicted to the rush of battle. He was never more alive than when he was swinging his battle ax. But, eventually he lost his taste for it, though he was always the first to volunteer for a mission. It was awhile before I realized that he had tossed away any will to live, that he was searching for a battleground that would finally take him. There was no rush, no death wish; if he had wanted to simply die, there were a number of ways he could do it without fighting. Suicide, for instance. Instead, he sought out a simple blast of glory and that was it."
The redhead sharpened her eyes on the dark-clad man. "And that's the feeling I'm getting from you. You'll fight to live, but you don't really care that you do. You just want to find a fitting end."
Batman closed his eyes, not to ignore her, but to face the rush of emotions and images that were about to flood him. He put all of his focus on his breathing, keeping as calm as he could while beating back the rush. He knew what to expect: bullets, blood, the smell of fire and smoke, drowning, madness. If he didn't get a handle on them, they would overwhelm him and he'd alert every Kalanorian on the shuttle to their presence, if not their location.
Fortunately, he was able to suppress them. Thankfully Hawkgirl allowed him to do his meditation, not prodding him for a response. Once he was in control, Batman opened his eyes, seeing the Thanagarian waiting patiently.
"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "Perhaps it's just as you say it is. For the longest time I've been angry. Not the wall-punching kind, but the one that simmers and seethes, never ending no matter what you do." He noticed a slight shift in the woman's posture. "You know what I'm talking about."
Hawkgirl nodded. "I do."
"Then you know how long it can last: years. I've been like that since I was eight years old. Nothing I did growing up, being Batman, none of it could relieve it. It was an ongoing cycle. I've had moments where it wasn't all-consuming, didn't hurt as much, but those were few and far in between."
This time it was his turn to pause as he took a deep breath. "The only reprieve I got was when I was fighting the Joker. I can still remember falling off that catwalk, the pain of my body breaking on cement, the smell of fire and smoke. I was slipping away and along with it my anger drained away."
When he didn't continue, Hawkgirl prodded, "And then?"
Another sigh. "Peace."
Perhaps that wasn't the best way to describe that moment, but he had yet to find a word that better encompassed what he had felt. A genuine smile appeared on his face. "I can't say for sure there was a Heaven or Hell; can't quite remember that, but I do recall that feeling."
Then his smile fell, souring with what came next. "And then it was ripped away from me. I was burning inside and out, madness infecting my head. I couldn't breath. The first thing I can remember was being restrained on a bed, my mind a jumble of pictures and words, but none of it making sense."
Batman stopped, feeling his anger beginning to rear its head. He clamped down on it, but it took much longer to keep it contained. His breathing was elevated, so it needed to be slowed.
By the time he managed to regain total control, Hawkgirl was talking again. "So that's what Diana meant. She told us about meeting Ra's al Ghul, about how you lost your memory. I wasn't sure what he meant by the 'trauma of rebirth,' but I think I'm getting an idea."
Hmm, that was an appropriate way to describe it. "Even now I have moments where I feel...wrong," he admitted. "Like I'm not supposed to be here."
That's when the woman's face hardened. "You better cut that out now. Guess what, you've gotten what no other person will ever get: a second chance—literally. You died, sorry, but you're alive now. And since you chose—again—to fight crime when you could've done anything else, started a brand new life, you have to follow through." She leaned towards him. "And that means not getting yourself killed again."
Batman wasn't about to tell her she was a little late on that one. His resurrection at the hands of Rama Kushna was even stranger than the Lazarus Pit, what with the restoration of his memory. It was something he could ignore considering his unbridled anger had returned with a vengeance, but the out-of-placeness had slowly reared its head over time. Regardless, there's was no point in pointing that out.
So, he decided to change the subject. Though he intended on figuring this out later, now was a good time to press his curiosity. "Tell me something," he spoke. "Are the Kalanorians able to read your mind?"
That made Hawkgirl frown. "Huh? No. Why?"
"When we encountered the one in Metropolis, he was able to read my thoughts. I've had to suppress all emotions and rational thought to go undetected. I've been doing that ever since we boarded the ship. Yet, you're not even trying to rein yourself in and you've gone undetected as well."
The Thanagarian leaned away from him, pressing her back against the wall. "Oh," was all she said.
Batman waited patiently for more, but it soon became apparent that the redhead wasn't going to indulge him. So he pressed, "Is that all?"
"For you, yeah. It's none of your business."
The vigilante narrowed his eyes. "The League isn't aware of this, are they?"
The moment she stiffened, he knew he was right. "I'll take that back," he said then. "The Martian must have noticed, but hasn't spoken to you about it. The others are the ones in the dark."
"Like...I...said...it's not your business."
He smirked. He had pressed a button and she wasn't liking it. Perhaps it was immature of him to do so considering the "heart-to-heart" they had just had, but he wasn't entirely comfortable telling others about what had happened to him. He was the only person left in the world that knew his plight, assuming that one other was dead. He had his doubts at times.
Regardless, now was a poor time to anger an ally, so he needed to make some reparations. "I apologize for my bluntness. This isn't the place to be getting into that."
Hawkgirl looked away from him, arms crossing over her chest. "How about we just stop talking? Sound good? Great."
Well, as long as they were professional in the upcoming fight, that's all that really mattered at this point. Again returning to his meditation, the dark-clad man blocked out the simmering Thanagarian and everything else around him. He needed to find his center so that anymore emotional outbursts wouldn't threaten to overwhelm him.
With the steady rise and fall of his chest, his respirations slowing down to a calm, soothing pace, Batman felt his body relax, the tension flowing out of him.